


It Doesn't Have To End Here

by pietromavximoff



Category: Captain America, Marvel, Stucky - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:16:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietromavximoff/pseuds/pietromavximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve helping Bucky realize who he really is during CATWS - not The Winter Soldier but someone he knew in a past life, and then everything that happenes after that with Steve and Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Have To End Here

**Author's Note:**

> All the quotes from CATWS are meant to be in italics, so if they aren't just pretend they are hehe

Bucky still remembered what it felt like to be him. The Winter Soldier. He had never really known that the name had belonged to him, never really known he had a title, but he knew that that was what he was, not just what people called him.  
And then came Captain America, and he had screwed up his vision of his own identity, made him question the people who held him as their own personal assassin, made him question his own thoughts. Made him wonder if Bucky Barnes and The Winter Soldier weren’t the same person, after all.  
On the bridge, he had felt his ribs crushing in on themselves, breaking bones to shield the organ that kept him alive as it beat out of control. Bucky?  
And for the first time, he stopped and he felt a bud of apprehension bloom into doubt as he stared at eyes that quietly reminded him of a past life, too far away from now.  
And although his throat had closed up and his thoughts were scattered, he heard himself respond in a detached voice. Who the hell is Bucky?  
In the fleeting moment before he attacked, he saw the wide blue eyes gazing at him cloud over in confusion, in fear. And he felt as though he had seen those eyes countless times, in different times; scared, sad, angry, loving, in another lifetime that hadn’t happened. The familiarity is what made him doubt himself again.  
Later, he’d ask about him.  
The man on the bridge.  
Breathe in, breathe out. Who was he?  
Wait. Wait for the story they’d tell him. Wait to see if he’d believe it, or let the doubt grow.  
I knew him.  
Talking, talking. Reassuring tones with an underlying hint of annoyance. Quiet.  
But I knew him.  
He felt the gap in his memory like something physical, like something he knew he had to carry with him forever now that he’d started to doubt, now that it couldn’t be taken back.  
As they tortured him, he found a way to stay grounded. The sound echoed in his head along with his screams, blue eyes haunting him as he squinted his own shut. Bucky? A shooting pain through his body, twisting violently against his restraints. Bucky? His metal fingers curling, fists clenching while his teeth ached biting down. Bucky? His head pounding, a piercing pain through it like someone was stabbing a knife in and twisting. Bucky? The veins in his neck popping as his inhumane screams turned to whimpers. Bucky?  
And when it was over, once they had all gone and he was able to curl up in a dark corner, there was something else echoing in his head. Who the hell is Bucky?

He tried so hard to make sure the next time he saw Captain America, it would be the last time. Finish the mission. Kill him. Do what you’ve been trained to do, do what you know to do.  
And he almost did, until he heard those words, that voice that reminded him of something he couldn’t remember. You know me.  
Anger, pain, hatred, fear. No I don’t!  
He wasn’t sure what was real, wasn’t sure that he wasn’t just making up the voice in his head, morphing it into something he wanted to hear.  
The voice grew softer. Bucky. You’ve known me your whole life.  
His head was aching with images of strangers, broken conversations and unsure emotions that left him drained. He struck with full force, his grunt only half as aggressive as he had meant it.  
Your name is James Buchanan Barnes.  
It hurt, it hurt too much. He needed to be mindlessly violent, he needed not to think. He told the man to shut up as he struck out again. I’m not gonna fight you. And then the shield was gone and it was falling through the sky and the man was still there, panting and waiting. It was Captain America’s hopeful eyes that made The Winter Soldier want to follow the shield to the ground. You’re my friend. He allowed those words to get him angry. Tackling the other to the ground, he let himself spit out harsh words. You’re my mission.  
And if he blocked out the soft whimpers of pain the other man was making as he hit him again and again, he could almost convince himself that he wouldn’t remember his face later.  
Then finish it.  
Hesitation. His metal arm, technically, was his, but suddenly it felt alien, as if it belonged on someone else, someone who could do what he was made to, properly. Without hesitation.  
Cause I’m with you ‘till the end of the line.  
And the words made him pause with a staggering self-doubt that he’d never felt before. And the familiarity suddenly wasn’t a memory anymore, it was here, right in front of him.  
It was real.  
A crash, a scrape of metal and suddenly they were ripped apart, and he was watching the man disappear into the ocean while his own metal arm was the only thing keeping him from falling, too.  
Later, he’d found him. Later, he’d dragged him out of the deep water and left him where he’d be found, turning away after he had made sure his dripping lips were parted and his chest was moving up and down. After he’d made sure he was alive.

Bucky still remembered what it was like to think like The Winter Soldier. To think poisonous, horrible thoughts as he killed whoever needed to be killed, silence anyone who needed to be silenced. There was never a time when the bad thoughts hadn’t left his head, until the time they did. He always wondered when everything bad would go.  
It was after it all, after he had gone and read about how Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were childhood friends, after he started to get broken fragments of memories coming back as he slept, after he’d wake up sobbing, his heart hitting his ribs, the dark, unfamiliar room empty aside from him. After he and Captain America had found each other again, and he had realized the man hadn’t brought his shield. After he introduced himself as Steve, after he had told him he was Bucky. After Bucky believed him, after the truth brought him to his knees, sobbing. After Steve had ran to him, cradling his broken body and shaking as he cried, too. After Bucky woke up that night screaming again, trying to escape his own mind. After he realized Steve was right next to him, pained eyes filling with tears. After Bucky felt Steve’s strong arms around him and quick words murmuring reassurances in his ear in a voice that sounded like it had been broken and put back together too many times. After realizing he wasn’t alone. After they talked about everything. After they slowly grew back together. After Steve heard Bucky’s laugh for the first time since the last time, after Steve grinned and shook his head in disbelief, laughing at the ground. After Bucky was allowed into SHIELD, after he became an avenger. After Tony and Sam’s constant remarks about the two of them never leaving each other alone and Natasha’s knowing glances with her lips twisted into a sly smile. After one fourth of July, when Steve and Bucky had gone to watch the fireworks together, filled with memories of them together like this, years ago. After Bucky had stared at Steve’s lips for so long it drove him crazy, and he leant in and brushed his own against them and rendered Steve red and speechless for a few seconds. After Steve had kissed him back with bruising pressure, after they realized that they didn’t just want to be together, they needed to. After they told everyone else while awkwardly avoiding eye contact, and Tony, Sam and Natasha had exchanged grins and said it was about time they decided to tell them. After days getting coffee and Bucky laughing at the cream on Steve’s nose. After years of fighting by each other’s side, years of making up for all the years that were taken away. After Steve had told Bucky he loved him and Bucky had found that even though his throat had closed up, he was able to do the same.  
After that, all the obstacles in their way, all the odds that told them this could end badly, had gone.  
After it all, The Winter Soldier, the poisonous, horrible thoughts, had gone, too.  
Everything bad had gone, after it all.


End file.
